Monday, May 11, 2015

Pilgrimage





Last night, Annie Leibovitz's book, Pilgrimage, fell off the shelf in our living room.  Samantha was asleep, Tim and I were upstairs in his office.  We heard the clatter and looked at each other, puzzled.  Tim hesitated, wondering if someone was downstairs, but it had sounded so much like a picture falling off the wall, it was more reflex than actual consideration.  He headed down.  I waited before joining him.  We couldn't find the source of the noise.  Finally, I saw it, the big Niagara Falls cover on the floor by the sofa, tucked beneath its arm. 





Maybe our guests had been thumbing through the book before heading home yesterday.  Maybe it had a message for us, since we visited the Falls last week.  Maybe it was just time for me to return to this marvelous book, whose commanding, ascetic prose leaves me breathless every time. 

It was my first time visiting Niagara Falls and I can hardly wait to go back.  We were celebrating our five-year wedding anniversary.  This time we had a little munchkin in tow.



Comfort Inn restroom sign, keeping it real.

Meanwhile, the Westin's restroom is for skinny bitches only?

Tesla!

Tim rocking one national landmark T-shirt at a different one (and S. rocking some pjs).

 


On a different part of the art spectrum, I read a book called Graduates in Wonderland and really enjoyed it.  It's a memoir, of sorts, that originated in emails two grads wrote each other about their lives in various cities after school.  It reminded me of those years in my own life, how daunting and exhilarating they were.  I felt for those girls making their way through the world, parsing job interviews, grad school applications, douche-bag after douche-bag, New York, Paris, Beijing.  I recognized a little of myself in them.  It was also a relief to be on the other side of that life, to look at their quandaries with the assurance of a matron, thinking, Girls, you must ask more for yourselves! Especially when facing love.  It felt nice to have a bit of a clue. 


Not that the authors were ever far from understanding.  It was also a relief to see two young women take their lives so seriously.  Sometimes too seriously.  Sometimes they didn't seem to realize their enormous privileges and you could almost trace the amount of suffering they were experiencing at any given moment to this lack of awareness, which I find interesting.  Entitlement is not just unattractive, it is also a disease that eats away at happiness.

Well!  With that preachy little soapbox, I wish you a belated and happy Mother's Day.  Spring is here and I am soaking in all this rain.  Green grass, insects, hammocks, moss creeping across patio bricks. 


To all that nourishes you, mysterious and flowing, and free,
XOXO

P.S. I have more to say about Niagara Falls but it's all swirling inside.  It was a holy place for me - too white and water-filled to hammer into form here.  Let's just say, I went quiet for a few days, soaking everything in, a dog with her nose to the wind.  You know those places?  Where is yours?






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